


Grave

by sylph_feather



Series: Phanniemay 19 [3]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Amity Park - Freeform, Culture, Fluff, Funeral, Funeral Customs, Gen, Phanniemay, Phanniemay 2019, death culture, phanniemay 19, possibly tbc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylph_feather/pseuds/sylph_feather
Summary: Amity makes its ghosts graves— including a certain half ghost.





	Grave

A peaceful sending off has become deeply rooted in Amity Park’s residents; a quiet, respected grave would lead to happier ghosts (or no ghosts at all) according to research by the Fentons. Even already aggressive, unrelated beings became soothed in the presence of one of these graves, or when a small grave of their own was set up. 

In the end, the dead’s most deepest desire was only to be  _ remembered,  _ to know their impact. It didn’t change their whole persona; those that were rotten stayed that way… but it at least soothed many of the fickle ones a bit. 

So yes, first the town turned its attention towards the malignant ghosts, allowing more positive energy to flow through them. Months after that though, when all that could be done on that front was, there was a question that snagged on Amity Park’s collective consciousness. 

There was one ghost that they saw often that had no offerings.  _ Where is Phantom’s grave?  _

 

xXx

 

Danny didn’t immediately connect  _ “I’m feeling happier and energized”  _ to “ _ I have a grave”  _ because who the hell  _ would?  _ It was odd, to be sure, considering even with the now moderately soothed ghosts, he was still fighting off a good deal of portal creeps that left him perpetually tired and stressed, and his grades didn’t exactly help. 

But… the last few weeks his grades had been rising, and he’d been  _ happier,  _ not as tired. In his dreams, faint murmurs of assurance drowned out his doubtful thoughts, and good food combined with comforting colors and feelings drove away dark nightmares. 

At first, Danny figured it was the mass grave site. Normally a town creating one of those was something of a negative thing, to understate it. Not Amity Park, though. After the conclusive results of positive offerings towards ghost as part of a research project of trying to passively  _ prevent _ ghost attacks (not just deal with them in the moment), Amity had happily set about working. Within those months, a large and peaceful grave site filled with shrines emerged— even Danny aided, and was surprised at the way even being around the graves directed at other ghosts bolstered him. 

Now, that project was finished; all that would remain for the community was upkeep—refreshing offerings, cleaning, the like. Even Danny partook—  _ especially _ Danny— dumping offerings in hopes of not dealing with his enemies, and carefully curating small shrines to the handful of ghosts he’d befriended. 

Danny figured it was this completion that accounted for such an uptick of energy, with positive, peaceful feelings coming from those graves. 

He wasn’t completely  _ wrong,  _ considering that the finishing of the immediately malignant ghosts’ graves encouraged the townspeople to move onto a specific grave to aid the hero they’d warmed up to a bit. 

Danny simply decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, floating on the relaxation and normalcy he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

 

xXx

 

...Except it didn’t last. It hit him in the night, a pang in his chest, a sharp feeling of anger that had him baring too-sharp teeth, eyes ablaze. 

...Danny couldn’t place  _ what _ got him so angry, and spent a moment sinking now sharpened nails into his pillow in an attempt to release the sudden, irrational burst. 

A thought hit him—  _ the graves.  _ It was almost a subconscious idea, but it did make sense… so he transformed feeling more ghostly, more dangerous than usual, and went to check it out. 

 

xXx 

 

Somewhere along the way, the world dissolved; only flashes remained. An angry mob,  _ desecrating what was HIS.  _ A scream— his own— repelling them.  _ Fear.  _

And that was how Phantom found himself blinking at his own grave. He didn’t realize it was his at  _ first,  _ only looked at the stone with the simple logo and tacky black-white-green themed offerings in confusion, mind processing. He next noticed the  _ ruin—  _ spray painted declarations that Phantom was no hero, smashed flowers, ruined food, torn _ thank you _ letters. The grave was cracked where something akin to a baseball bat smashed into it. 

Seeing this caused comprehension to dawn and that same simmering  _ rage  _ to boil up— Danny tamped down on the latter. 

Reverently, he reached down and touched a bouquet of flowers of black and white, and felt that same swirl of happiness from his dreams engulf him. Warm gratitude touched his heart, despite the obvious fact that it was now partially ruined— but really, that didn’t matter in the face of all the other things and their meaning. 

 

xXx

 

The next day, the town was angry and surprised to find a semi-wrecked grave in the collection— Phantom had widely been accepted by now after all, considering the sheer amount of people he’d saved. Everyone resolved to repair it right quick. 

What surprised them  _ more,  _ though, was the tearful letter of  _ thank you _ to  _ them,  _ left as a response to their own multitude of _ thanks for saving us  _ in the form of gifts and cards. 

_ Anything for our hero,  _ the town replied. 

**Author's Note:**

> Because it’s for phanniemay this is pretty short… but I might expand this into a full fledged fic (4ish chapters, maybe?) once it’s over, so follow/subscribe to get an update on that (if you like). 
> 
> Art tumblr: @sylph-feather  
> Writing tumblr: @sylph-feather-quill


End file.
